


think about what you believe in now (am I someone you cannot live without?).

by anxiouspunk



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Humor, I'm back on my bullshit!, Sexuality Crisis, and I’m sorry it’s so long...again.., and a bunch of really dumb lesbian/wlw jokes, and lorelai with motherly sage advice, bc sometimes I’m basic like that, bi!Rory, but it was really bc he’s in love with him?, but she doesn’t know it yet, featuring two idiots who don’t know they’re in love with each other, jealous!Rory, lesbian!Paris, this is one of those I could NOT find a title for and so had to settle for the nearest thing, this is so dumb but I had fun writing it so.., title from the chainsmokers’ ‘call you mine’, unlike before she’s in the know this time, well..., writing really weird and stupid humour fic that linger into possibly being crack, you know that meme about the guy who thinks he’s homophobic bc he hates his rommate’s boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21853057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouspunk/pseuds/anxiouspunk
Summary: “Alright, let’s look at the evidence here.” Lorelai straightened up, pretending to lay out imaginary papers “When Paris first told you she was gay, did you have an issue with it?”“No.”“Okay – when you guys went to the meet-up, and I’m assuming there was some handsy action and not-well-concealed-dark-corner making out between these women, did that bother you?”“No more then seeing strangers exchange spit ever does.”“Fair. Alright, when that chick at that event tried to slide up to you at said event, did that bother you?”“No –”“And, just to be clear, before all this and Paris’s girlfriends and subsequent make-outs, anything else you’ve ever seen of the rainbow bother you? Will and Grace re-runs? The Ellen Show?”“No, none of it!”Lorelai stopped then. She leaned back in her chair, lips pressing together, watching her daughter. Rory thought it looked like she was trying to conceal a smile.“...Then, kid, maybe it’s worth thinking about the fact that, clearly it’s not girls kissing each other that’s bothering you, but, every time you’ve been upset, it’s been Paris kissing those other girls that’s bothering you.”
Relationships: Paris Geller & Rory Gilmore, Paris Geller/Original Female Character(s), Paris Geller/Rory Gilmore
Comments: 21
Kudos: 255





	think about what you believe in now (am I someone you cannot live without?).

**Author's Note:**

> There's not much to say here kids. I came up with this idea and had to run with it bc it's was so delightfully stupid (plus, I love a jealousy arc, and we hardly ever see it for Rory as much as we do for Paris). Enjoy!

“I have to tell you something.” 

Rory was pulled from her book, finding an anxious Paris hovering over her. She knows, just by that sentence alone, that she’s in for something. Paris has no problem telling her things; the angry rants of word vomit usually take care of that. To the point where Rory knows more about her friend’s life then she’d honestly like to. 

So, the fact that Paris was actually  _announcing_ she had something to say, face painted in nerves and wringing her hands, holding back for once, was something big.  Saddling up for what she was in for, Rory took a breath and placed her book down on her bed. So much for a calm night in of her favourite past time. 

“Well that sounds like fun.”

Paris huffs and sits down beside Rory atop her old, worn comforter she’s constantly calling tacky. She glares down at the floor, fingertips pulling at the cuffs of her sweater.

“It’s got to do with dating, and...sexuality, and the like...” 

“Well, we’ve been around this block before, so shouldn’t be too hard. What’s up? Did you meet someone?” The blonde continued to glower, not responding, causing worry to stir in Rory “..If you don’t say anything, I’m going to assume this took a turn for the worse. Was it an unfortunate hook-up?”

“No –”

“Oh god, wait, don’t tell me you got back together with Asher.”

“I –”

“I thought there was an agreement that he was old and gross, as well as the fact that, Par, I don’t think it’s a viable option for the future, because he’s probably going to kick it before you even finish med school –”

“God Gilmore, will you shut up for a _moment,_ I’m trying to tell you I’m gay!..” 

Out of all the things to expect, that was at the bottom of Rory’s list. Maybe not even thought of. She blinks in response, attempting to adsorb that information.  _Gay?_ Was she serious? One look at Paris gave her that answer; the scared eyes, the tense stance, the nervous she’s desperately trying to hide to keep any weakness locked away. This is for real. 

“..What?” Rory can only say, brow scrunching “For real?” 

“ _No_ – congrats, you’re on an episode of Punk’d.” Paris rolls her eyes – _there she is_ – but soon went back to looking nervous, glaring at her sweater seams “Unfortunately or not, this is, in fact, for real. I’m a lesbian.” 

“Okay, walk me through this Par.”

She sighs again, staring off “I think..I’d always felt like something was wrong, off, but I could never place it. It honestly smacked me over the head the other day; you always hear girls dredge on and  _on_ about their break-ups and how difficult they are, and I’d always rolled my eyes because I never found it nearly as difficult as these over-emotional girls do, even after I’d just broken up with Asher, and I used to think it’s because I was more emotionally put together then them, but I don’t think that’s the problem. Hearing  them go on about how they’ll miss their boyfriends, made me see the problem was really that I didn’t care about them. Any of the men I dated.” 

“..That’s a pretty big hint.” 

“So I’ve gone and done some extensive research over the past couple days, into lesbian literature and personal experiences and I made some notes –”

“Of course you have.” Rory smiles

“– and turns out this isn’t uncommon. To feel more placid with the men you see, to be glad to have a boyfriend not because of him, but because you’re keeping up with heterosexual norms – and god knows my mother really pushed those down my throat. So, the more I saw, the more things started to fall into place. I mean, _look_ at my track-record – Tristan and Asher. Clearly I was picking out either the most objectively attractive one or someone who’s work I admired, despite them both being awful.” 

“You liked Jamie.” Rory pointed out. 

“I liked Jamie simply because we had the same interests, and then he so happened to be interested in me, making me conflate my likeliness towards him into romantic feelings. In reality, Jamie was nice, but about as interesting as white bread.”

“Fair.” 

“I never liked any of these men; I don’t think I’ve liked any. But, I’ve always usually surrounded myself with women, and I’ve always liked being around them, and, the more I think about it, the more I was probably attracted to a handful of them growing up.” 

“You ever have a crush on any of them, like in Chilton or something?” 

Paris looked to Rory, brown eyes swimming in blue, a pause coming over. Rory thought she was thinking on something, but just said, 

“..I don’t know, truthfully. I just...” she sighs, gaze shifting over “..I thought about it and it just felt..correct. Like how it was supposed to be. I never gave myself a chance to think about it when I was younger, too busy trying to appease my mother and fall into norms by liking men, but once I did, it was, in all it’s cheesiness, like everything fell into place. I can’t believe I never noticed it before. I’m gay.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of introspection.” 

“I know, thanks.” Paris takes a breath in, recollecting by straightening up, though when she spoke, her voice was much tighter and she wasn’t looking at Rory “..So, with all that, I’m up to discussing tonight plans on rearranging the roommate situation, when you’d like to potentially move out –”

“What?!” no matter how long Rory has known Paris, she never fails to make her slip on a curve ball “what’re you talking about, are you kicking me out? Have you already hitched up with some girl, are lesbians that quick?” 

“Supposedly; it’s called U-Hauling, by the way. And…you still want to be roommates?..” 

“Yes?? What, did you think I thought you were gunna convert me?” 

She rolls her eyes again, arms crossed, huffy in her defense “I was  _just_ checking Rory, god forbid I be accommodating –”

“Par, I don’t care.” 

The anger drops, and Paris looks over again, that nervous vulnerability Rory knows well. 

“You’re...you’re not uncomfortable?” 

“ _No._ Honestly, the only thing I’d be upset by is you insinuating I’d actually not want to be roommates anymore because of this.” 

“Oh.” Paris blinks back, and it’s like watching a light finally click on “Of course. I’m sorry.” 

“You should be.” 

It’s a mock scolding, accompanied by Rory’s smile. And it then gets  a smile back, the rest of her fear shaken  off, Rory’s glad to see. Saying no more, Paris reached out and wrapped her arms around her, the taller hugging back. She could feel Paris exhale deep, fingers digging slightly into Rory’s shirt, holding tight knowing, for her first coming out, it was okay, and Rory still wanted to be around her. Rory smiled against her shoulder. 

“Proud of you Par..”

“Thanks. I’m glad I finally got it off my chest.” Paris sighed, pulling back “Jury’s still out on how my _mother_ will take it, but, I suppose that’s a problem for later. For now I can be as gay as I please.” 

“We should celebrate!” 

“How?” 

“Uh…celebratory-eat-whatever-ice-cream-we-have-leftover?..” 

“Always promising.” was the smiling jab, the blonde rising up “As long as you don’t eat all of the whipped cream too this time.” 

“I bought two cans last grocery haul, I did some smart shopping.” Rory rose up with her, leading them into the kitchen “..My mom is going to be so psyched, by the way.”

“Oh I know; getting to hear the Lorelai response to this was one of the pushers for me to come out in the first place, I’m looking forward to it.” 

-

“Remind me why we’re here again?” 

“Uh, you said now that you’re ‘out’ you thought it would be good to get involved with your ‘people’, and I somehow agreed to be your security blanket and help you potentially score tonight.”

“Right. Why did we do that?” 

Frankly, standing off to the side of the darkening  room with it’s loud music and thick crowds, Rory finds herself asking the same thing. Yale’s GSA was putting on some kind of drinks-and-chat event, having rented out one of the  buildings. Paris caught wind of it and decided now was the best time to take a crack at finally stepping into the group. And Rory, like most times, magically found herself  roped into things too. Paris being gay apparently didn’t change the fact that when it came to dating, they were better off doubling up. 

Nor did it change the matter of Paris claiming herself terrible at dating. In fact, having zero experience in the field of dating women only exasperated the anxiety. She spent thirty minutes trying to put together an outfit that was appeasing and, apparently, gay, enough. And even then she still didn’t like it.  _“I know what clothing men like, all these years attempting to figure it out and having my mother blather into my ear about men’s particulars, I have a general idea – but I haven’t the slightest for what_ _women_ _like!”_

“C’mon, we dragged ourselves all the way down here,” Rory argued, gesturing to the crowd of undercuts and button downs “and you put me out of a night of cold pizza leftovers and Buffy re-runs, so you owe it to me at least to make it worthwhile.” 

“What, opposed to every other leftover re-runs night? Your life is about as exciting as a retirement home’s bingo night Gilmore.”

“No more outta you. We’re diving, let’s go.” 

Rory grabbed Paris’s wrist before she could protest more, diving into the hoard of  people. They pushed their way through, managing to make it to the bar. People were still crowded around, chatting up on the bar stools, the two nervously hovering around. 

“There, not so hard. Should we get a drink?” Rory posed “Or, we might wanna wait. Maybe a fancy dame will buy you one.” 

Paris rolled her eyes “I can’t drink, remember, I’m driving. With only an hour on the meter, I shouldn’t put my money on it wearing off before then.”

“You mean half an hour, and sure, better safe then sorry.” 

Paris furrowed, turning to Rory  _“No,_ I mean an hour, a full sixty minutes. I saw you put an extra quarter in after I couldn’t find any more in the car.” 

Now it was Rory’s turn to look confused “I didn’t – by the time I’d pulled out all my change and was  _going to,_ you were telling me it’s fine and not to put any more in –”

“Because I thought you’d already put more in! Oh my god, are you telling me there’s only _thirty_ minutes on that thing?!” 

“Yes?! I kept trying to tell you it wasn’t enough, but you were pushing us along and saying we were going to be late –”

“Good, _great_ Gilmore! I’m going to get towed now!” 

“You’re _not_ going to get towed Paris –”

“Well it took us ten minutes to walk up here, and we’ve been standing around for another five, that only leaves fifteen left on it to get back! Now they’re gunna dox me, pull up my license and find out I go here and then put it on my record –”

“They’re not –”

“Gimmie money.” Paris shoved her hand out, glaring up at the brunette “I don’t have more change and you got me into this mess.” 

Rory was too tired to argue, instead sighing and pulling out her wallet. She dropped some coins into Paris’s hand, leaving the blonde to grunt that she’ll be right back and storm out. Leaving Rory alone and defenseless, sitting on the bar stool. 

So, she did what she always does when she’s out and doesn’t know anyone – she pulled out a book. Rory slid the cover from her bag,  setting it on the counter where she sat down far at the edge. It took only about  ten minutes until she heard –

“Dickenson?” 

Rory’s head came  up from her book. In front of her stood a woman with short hair and a navy button-up, smile warm. 

“A little harrowing for a Friday night don’t you think?” 

“Hey, between her and Plath, I had to pick the lesser of two evils.” Rory smiles back, causing the woman to chuckle “knowing there will be fewer soliloquies from under the bell jar, I can still feel hopeful towards Emily for an eventful time yet.”

“It is the thing with feathers.” She charms, and then slides up closer to the bar, green eyes hitting Rory’s blues “Can I buy you a drink?..” 

An awkward blush came over Rory’s cheeks. She ducked her head slightly, clearing her throat. It wasn’t like she was insulted or anything, but it’s never comfortable to turn anyone down.

“I..I’m sorry, I’m not, I...” 

“Ah.” She was quick to catch on, smile faltering a little but pulling up again in realization “You walk on the other side of the road.” 

“A fan of the menfolk.” Rory smiled again, expression scrunching a little with sympathy “Sorry..” 

“So am I. I don’t know how you people do it.” She bounced back well, leaning up against the bar “But hey, it’s what I get for picking the one loner chick in the corner reading Emily Dickinson of all things.” 

“Well I’ve also got a copy of Cummings too, if that suits you better.” Rory hit back. The woman chuckled. 

“Of course you do.” There was a pause of silence, and then she slunk her hand out of her jeans, holding it out to the brunette “Samantha, formally, but Sam’s the name.” 

Rory smiled, taking the hand “Lorelai, but Rory’s mine.”

“Hey, gender-neutral nickname. So what’re you doing here, Rory? I’m sure you realize this is a gay date night and you didn’t just stumble in here.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m aware – I’m actually playing security blanket and potential wingwoman to my friend tonight. She just came out.” 

“What a humanitarian.” She jostled, but her smile was warm “That’s actually sweet – I hope I’m not keeping you then, if she needs you..–”

“Oh no! It’s fine, she just went out to re-check our parking, and, actually, she uh, she should be here by now..” Rory starts scanning the crowd – god forbid Paris ran into car problems or couldn’t get back in or something as she would never hear the end of it – Sam peering out with her to help.

“What’s she look like?” 

“Uh, long hair, dirty blonde, wearing jeans and leather jacket, short-ish, neutral expression of anger, probably yelling at someone for not paying attention to where they’re going –”

“Dark turtleneck under the jacket?” 

“Yeah?..” 

“Well, not to knock you off your pedestal, but looks like your services may not be needed tonight.”

Rory furrowed, and leaned over past Sam to see. Paris was, indeed, there, about thirty feet away up against the wall – and talking to someone. Talking to a girl. She had dark hair down to her shoulders and a pretty dress, lit up in what was clearly a deep discussion with Paris.

“Well that was...fast.” 

“She’s new, and I’m assuming single, so, not by queer woman’s standards it’s not.” 

“I mean by _her_ standards..” Rory blinked back, still trying to adjust to what she was seeing. It takes Paris around half an hour and several confidence boosters to even go up to a guy. And here she was in a deep talk with a pretty girl. 

“Well, I guess someone had to score tonight.” Sam jokes, turning back around. 

“Guess so..” Rory mutters, still watching, but after noticing Sam had returned to the conversation, tried to snap back to attention “So, uh, wh-what about you? See anyone? Maybe my services can help someone else tonight.” 

That gets her a laugh. Sam claims she wasn’t super into getting hitched currently, just shooting her shots for fun, and so the conversation ends up steering into school. Rory says what she’s doing, and Sam tells her she’s majoring in the arts as well – film specifically, but has a flare for poetry too. 

She asks Rory on her thoughts, since she was reading Dickinson, on some of the classics – and Rory tried to answer, but now that she could see Paris over Sam’s shoulder, she felt her eyes constantly drawing over. Tried to give her  coherent thoughts because she  _does_ love poetry, but noticed how Paris was smiling at this girl she’s talking to. Actually  _smiling._ And she tried to listen to Sam’s thoughts too, give her full attention, but then she sees this girl in a moment of excitement squeeze Paris’s wrist, leaning into her. Paris hates when people touch her, unless she was  initiating it. It took her months just to unclench when Rory hugged her. Yet somehow she seemed unbothered, grinning back.

Looks like they were really hitting it off. It was nice for Paris, if not totally unusual. Rory wasn’t really used to seeing it – to seeing Paris seemingly happy around anyone else then, well, her. 

“Hello? Rory, you in there?” 

“What?” Rory blinked back, glancing back to Sam who’s raising an eyebrow, an embarrassed smile coming over “God, sorry, I-I think I’m finally starting to tap out – I actually um, I think I’m gunna head out, long day you know? But it was super lovely talking to you!..” 

Sam’s eyebrow only raised up a bit, but she leaned back, letting Rory squeeze out from the bar “Alright  Dickenson, godspeed. Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

“For sure, let me know if you wanna do some book swapping sometime!” 

Bag thrown over her shoulder, Rory quickly whisked by, headed for the door –and, seeing across from her, Paris, and the girl she’s talking to who is now guiding her further into the room where it was much darker and couples were lurking. Rory quickly looked away. It wasn’t her business anyway. 

She actually didn’t know what she was doing, because Paris had drove here, meaning she was at a loss. So she just sat on the edge of the curb outside the building, book in hand and jean jacket wrapped around, entertaining herself until she hoped Paris would find her. And, about an hour later, that’s what happened. 

“Hey!” Rory’s head spins around, finding Paris walking down the pathway to her “What’re you doing out here?! I spend twenty minutes circling the room looking for you!” 

“Sorry.” The brunette apologies, watching her take a seat beside along the curb “It was getting kinda crowded in there. Plus, it’s only so comfortable for so long to be the lone person among couples making out.” 

“Understood.” 

A pause, where Rory observed Paris. Uncharacteristically upbeat after she just spent her night being social and with other people, and, Rory notices, red-ish lips missing their sheen. 

“So?...” 

Paris furrowed “What?..” 

“Par, your lips are all red and half your lipgloss is gone – so are we going to talk about you first hook-up with this mystery girl or what?” 

Paris gapes a little, then rolls her eyes, head going down – but then, a little smile comes over. Something content and excited.

“...You remember, back in Chilton, when Madeline and Louise would talk, at _nauseam,_ about boys they hooked up with, to almost grotesque detail?”

“I still have the war wounds, yes.”

Paris looked back up at Rory, now with more characteristic seriousness. 

“..I get it now.” 

Rory chuckles, smile coming on “Well, I’m glad. As long as you’re not gunna stoop to their level about it ‘cause I really don’t want to be doing this every weekend..” 

“God no, I have a few more brain cells then that.” Paris rolls her eyes again, getting another laugh. 

“Thank god for that..” 

“Also, it’s not really a mystery..” 

Before questioning, Rory sees Paris slide her hand in her jean pocket, and then pull out a slip of paper with a number written on it. Her eyebrows jumped up. That’s  _definitely_ never happened before. 

“ _Woah_ – slick.” 

“Don’t speak me up; she gave it to me, I didn’t ask.” Paris stares down at the paper, smile slipping over again “Her name’s Rachel..Wilson, I think? She’s majoring in journalism.” 

“Wow. Brunette, big into journalism..” Rory mused, and for some reason, the next words out of her mouth are “You’re not trying to replace me are you?..” 

“Please. I can’t get rid of you. You know too much about me.” Paris gets up, hand extended to pull Rory up with her “And so even if I did, I’d then have to kill you, which frankly, seems like a very laborious task..” 

“Love you too Par.” Rory smiles, falling into the blonde’s pace as they walked back to the car from their successful night. 

-

Things happened a lot quicker then Rory ever expected. 

It started with Paris pacing for  fifteen minutes straight as she worked up the nerve to call the number this girl, Rachel, gave her, which grew into a first date, which grew into a couple nights when Paris was out seeing her, until Rory suddenly blinked and then Paris was grinning as she sat on the edge of her bed poking her awake to tell her Rachel asked her to be her girlfriend. 

And Rory was happy for them. For a time. 

She was fine to hear about it, just in theory. And then she finally got to meet Rachel and never so fast has anyone crawled  _directly_ under her skin (well, except maybe Paris). 

And Rory’s biggest problem was that, she had no reasoning for it. Rachel was a perfectly nice girl. She chatted with Rory in her lavender sweater and blue jeans as she tucked back locks of dark brown hair, all about writing and their collective journalism interest. Maybe that was where she pricked Rory ( _“How can she have not ready_ any  _Austen?!” “I don’t love it either Gilmore but we all have our flaws.”_ ), and when she stated her goals for the papers she wants to publish for, something  competitive stirred in Rory that  _rarely_ showed it’s head. Or that she seemed to have a joke, a one-liner, tacked on at the end of every sentence, like some kind of comedy performance. It was a little obnoxious. And what was even more obnoxious, is that they got Paris to smile almost every time. 

Rory was used to being the only one who ever made Paris laugh. 

Rory tried not to let it get to her, for Paris’s sake. As Paris seemed to really be into this girl, beaming as Rachel took her hand in her own or made a quip just skirting on the edge of flirtatious. Or even worse, sweetly complimentary. Like Rory needed any reminding how smart and how great Paris was. She’s  _been_ here, telling Paris that before Rachel even strolled along. 

“ _I’m really glad I got to meet you.”_ Rachel had told Rory privately, after Paris had gone up to the counter to settle their bill, smiling so genuinely sweet you could pull out your hair _“You’re an important person in Paris’s life you know, she talks about you a lot.”_

“ _Yeah.”_ Rory still remembers the guilt creeping up on her, but not enough to deter her from saying _“She’s important to me too – we’ve been friends a long time, we’re close, and she’s really an incredible woman.”_

That’s when Rachel turns back to Paris and her widening grin still made something ugly sit in Rory’s stomach  _“Oh, that I’ve already configured.”_

Rory honestly doesn’t know what her problem is. And it’s concerning her, because she  _wants,_ very much, to be happy for Paris in that she has someone who seems to genuinely like her. But every time Rachel wants to oh-so-nicely ask Rory what article or paper she’s working on and maybe they can give each other pointers, or she sees her greet Paris with a kiss because she’s come over to their apartment for the umpteenth time, Rory finds her nails  start to dig into her palm.

However, between the evidence that Rachel was generally very nice and she wants to be happy for her friend, and  _also_ the realization that she never felt this way when Paris was with a guy, there’s only one thing left that’s different that would  _create_ a problem. And that’s the fact Paris was dating a girl. At her initial reaction, Rory dismisses it – she was raised in a very open minded household with a mother who would definitely give her an ugly eye if had a single bigoted thought. But without another alibi, that was the sole conclusion that kept coming up. Which terrified her.

She didn’t want to be that person, and she definitely didn’t want to loose Paris or stop supporting her in her newfound identity.

But like most problems Rory encounters, she’s hoping if she avoids looking it in the eye it will dissolve on it’s own. Maybe she just needed some time; after all, this relationship had developed faster then she could register. Right now, Rory’s just trying to focus on what was happening  in the moment, which was her mom who was coming in to have lunch with her. Rory will forever love her hometown, but she didn’t have the spare time currently to go all the way out, so her mom was meeting her half-way. 

She was in the middle of cleaning up some of her books off the table (if she didn’t, she’d hear about it later from Paris). There was a knock at the door, Rory calling out ‘it’s open’ because she already knew who it was – and surely, Lorelai slipped through the open door.

“Hey!” She greets, sliding the final book into her bag.

“Hey!” Lorelai replied, shutting the door “Took me at least twenty minutes, but I finally found parking. Yale’s a happening place! I got asked to at least three different frat parties going on today just walking up here.”

“And yet, you decided to come spend time with little ol’ me instead.” Rory beamed at her mother, who grinned back.

“It was a toughie. But my love of food prevailed over watching college bros do keg stands.”

“I’m sure they’ll be devastated. Now, I know you only attend the finest of establishments, so I thought we could go to the all day breakfast diner nearby.”

“ _Only_ if they have waitresses on roller skates.” 

“They don’t, but I’m sure you’ll make the suggestion to them.” Rory slides by a smiling Lorelai, grabbing her bag. She was about to grab her jacket too, Lorelai headed to get the door – only for it to open first. Paris comes walking through – with Rachel behind her, both smiling mid-conversation. 

Oh good. Rory sucks in a breath. 

Paris, noticing the pair of Gilmores, stops in her tracks in surprise. 

“Oh, hey – I thought you guys went out?..” 

“We’re just about to leave.” Rory says quickly, ready to bolt for the door. God forbid the couple traipse along, and she’s moved back to third wheel – or, worse, she has to watch Rachel repeatedly touch Paris’s arm or, hear Paris go on about her afterwards ( _“I like her. I really do. She’s smart and interesting,_ _and, for once, doesn’t annoy me after twenty_ _minutes of spending time together,_ _which is a feat.”_ )

“We’re headed to lunch, if you guys wanna come! All day pancakes!” Lorelai broke in, arm on Rory’s shoulder, who resisted letting her head drop back. 

“Thanks, but we got lunch out.” Paris says, Rory mentally breathing out a sigh of relief.

“And that’s somehow deterring you from eating more?” Lorelai pretends to raise a brow of disbelief. Paris scoffs warmly. 

“I’m working up to the immunity of a Gilmore stomach, Lorelai.” She replies, after turning to Rachel, suddenly remembering she was there “I’m sorry, you’ve never been introduced – Rachel, this is Lorelai, Rory’s mother and senior manager of the Dragonfly inn.” 

“Oh, and so much more.” 

“Oh, you’re Lorelai!” Rachel lit up, clearly having been told about the Gilmore family via Paris. 

“And you’re girlfriend!” Lorelai replies, also having been told about Paris’s new relationship from Rory (but only kind things, on the ~~doomed~~ premise Rory has if she didn’t speak ill of Rachel maybe she’d stop feeling negatively towards her). 

“It’s nice to meet face to face; Paris has told me so much about the Gilmore clan – and, the very...unique town of Stars Hallow.” 

“I’m sure ‘unique’ is exactly the word Paris used..” Rory finally grins at her best friend, who rolls her eyes in exchange.

“That’s probably one of the kinder compliments we’ve gotten. And ditto; nice to see someone making Paris actually smile, and not froth at the mouth like usual.” 

Paris rolls her eyes again, but when Rachel smiles sweetly at her, she does the same back. Rory’s folded arms tightened, trying to keep her own polite smile.

“Anyway, we won’t keep you.” Paris says, stepping aside from the door with Rachel following “Time is money after all, and –”

“The –”

“The demands of capitalism will squeeze every dollar from your minute.” Rachel unknowingly cut Rory off, grinning at the blonde. Rory bit down on her lip instead, almost drawing blood, completely confused in how she learned one of Paris’s many ranted-lines so fast. Lorelai watched, switching her eyes between the two brunettes. 

“I don’t think the good, honest work of making all-you-can-eat pancakes is the way to wring their wallets, Paris.”

“Then give them five dollars for parking, Wilson.” Paris hit back, lips curling at the side. 

“We’ll see you guys later!” Rory called briskly, hastily grabbing the jean jacket on the table. Lorelai waved back to the couple as Rory got the door, quickly leading them outside before shutting it firmly. She had to dig around in her purse for her keys, not totally noticing Lorelai’s eyes on her.

“Well she seems nice..” 

Rory only grunts in reply,  continuing to scrounge. She swears if she accidentally left them behind and had to go back in...

“You know, it’s funny how you said she’s she’s also in journalism, and is also a book snob...” 

“Mm.” 

“And, now I see, also dark-haired...blue eyed...” 

“I dunno, I guess Paris has a type.” Rory dismissed; she didn’t want to talk about Rachel any longer frankly. 

“ _Definitely_ seems that way..” 

Rory looked up to her mother. Lorelai pressed on a wide grin. Before being able to say anything, her fingertips finally skimmed along the metal jagged edges. 

“There! Got it.” Rory pulled out her keys, turning back round with the key aiming for the lock – and then the door swings open, again. 

Both Lorelai’s stumbled back, Rory assuming it was Paris who wanted to ask her to pick up more of these cookies they were out of or demand to know where she hid her notes because she can’t find them. Instead, blue eyes hit blue and Rory is suddenly sure she’s in some kind of horror thriller. 

“Hey – I-I’m so sorry,” Rachel apologizes, pressing on a grin and holding onto something blue Rory catches in her hand “but, um..I think you grabbed the wrong jacket..” 

Rory blinked back. She looked down, pulling at the jean jacket, fingers fumbling for the trademarked missing button at the bottom only to not find it. This was, in fact, not hers. She’d just been so desperate to get out of there she’d snatched the wrong one. 

“Oh! Yeah, I-I’m sorry.” Rory yanked off the jacket with slightly red cheeks, holding it out. Rachel took it with an appreciative ‘thanks’, handing over Rory’s in exchange – and right when Rory thinks it’s over, Rachel leans by her, smiling over at Lorelai. 

“And, I’m so sorry, but, Lorelai, Paris tells me you worked your whole way up to senior manager at the hotel you work in? All the way from sixteen? Is that true?” 

“Every inch of it kid.” 

“That’s incredible! You know, I was also raised by a single mom, and I’m currently doing a piece on working single moms; if it’s alright by you, I’d love to do an interview with you – just a few questions, whenever you’re popping by again –”

No. No no. This can’t happen. Rory already knew her mom’s answer, so before she could even think about what she was doing, she jumped in, eyes to Rachel  and a pressed smile. 

“You know, Rachel, I’m sorry, but, we’re running late and I already called ahead to the restaurant –”

“Oh! Of course, sorry I’ll just wait until later. Have a nice time – try to enjoy the pancakes, at least!”

They waited until she’d scurried back into the apartment and closed the door  where Rory let out a breath. Thank god. Crisis averted. Then, loudly, half-joking and half not, 

“Thief!” 

Rory turns back to her mom, furrowing. 

“What?!” 

“You took my limelight! What was the deal, I could’ve rocked that kid’s expose!”

Rory rolled her eyes, and suddenly, with upset she didn’t know she had, burst “Look she already took one of my best friends, I don’t need her stealing my mom too!” 

Lorelai didn’t say anything, somewhat amused eyebrows only going up. Rory felt something nervous drop in her stomach. 

“I-I mean, it’s fine, I just….I guess I’m not used to halfing my time with Paris because a relationship is taking up the rest of it for her. I’m happy for her. It’s fine, just an adjustment.” 

“Well if you say it twice, it must be fine.” 

Rory huffs “Alright, now I really need pancakes – so let’s go so they don’t miss your comment on how roller skates would really suit those 50’s skirts they’re wearing.” 

-

Things weren’t improving like Rory hoped they would. This whole thing was still driving her up the wall, so by now she’s was simply doing her all to avoid Paris and her subsequent relationship. Her fear that she’d become more then narrow-minded on the whole thing was still chewing at her. She didn’t know how to solve it. She almost resorting to googling it.

Either way, she was trying not to let it be a problem – until one morning a week later. Rory was busy stirring milk into her morning coffee, dressed and getting ready to meet her mom again for lunch, when she heard angry stomps getting louder as they approached. Oh good.

Paris stormed in, pj's, tired eyes and one of the scrunchiest, I'm-in-a-rage expression's Rory's ever seen her wear. She pushed by her, aiming for the coffee pot.

"Hey..." Rory greeted warily, brow raised "Late night? I vaguely remember hearing the door open at some ungodly hour of the night.."

Paris didn't answer, instead ripping out the coffee pot and peering inside – only to find about a quarter of a cup left.

"Where's the coffee?!" She turned to Rory in a screech. Rory blinked back, pointing to the other mug on the counter.

"In your mug.."

Paris grumbled and cursed, slamming the pot back and grabbing the mug, black like she prefers, and sipping from it in the most pissed off way you could. Rory took in a breath. They were in for the long haul.

"Wanna talk about it?..."

"No!" Paris spat, taking another long sip "I mean, it's so stupid – who the hell does she think she is anyway?!"

"Who?"

"Rachel! We were on our date night last night, having gone out to a very nice dinner, and all's well as we go back to her place, but I didn't even get her jeans down before –”

"Didn't need that image." Rory squeezed her eyes shut.

"she stops me and says she 'needs to talk to me' because, apparently, _I'm_ non-committal!”

"You?"

"Me! She apparently claims she's felt 'distant' from me lately and that I'm not all there with her, as if my mind was on someone else. Who the hell else?!"

"Do you want me to answer or –”

"Of course that was the stupidest thing I've heard, I've been _nothing_ but loyal and invested in this relationship – all things I told her which she _refused_ to believe, leading us into an argument that eventually forced me to leave her place at two in the morning! In the middle of the night, I had to do some kind of bizarre, sex-less walk of shame to drive back here!"

"Wow.."

"I swear to god, this dating women thing.." Paris grumbled, taking another sip "I'm not used to being the non-crazy one! I'm always the emotional one, what am I suppose to do now?! Talk her down?! I tried and she accused me of having a sarcastic tone and babying her!"

"Well, I might have _some_ advice on how to do something like that.."

"Now is not the time to patronize me Gilmore."

Rory gave a smile back "So where do you guys stand now?"

"No idea.” Paris sighs, swirling her coffee around "Frankly, perhaps it was dangerous to go head first into this dating thing, a playing field I barely understood when it was _men."_

The amount of excitement Rory was feeling made her feel terrible. Totally awful. She should _not_ be happy about this. And yet, an idea of a Rachel-less life was far too tempting, that she felt herself blurting,

"Well, you tried to talk with her, but, you know, if she won't listen then what can you do.."

"What, give up?! You know the moment I give up is the moment I drop dead!"

Rory tips her head back, taking a breath "I know, but, if you're not suited for each other then there's nothing nobody can do –”

"Who said that?! I think we're suited fine, or am I just totally undateble?!"

"That's _not –”_ Rory wasn't entirely sure what she was saying, just feeling words tumbling out before she was checking them "I'm just trying to make you feel better Par; and, like, you can date Rachel or whatever, _I_ don't care, I've just known you a long time, and then knowing her with how well I know you..–”

"What, what's wrong with her?!"

_"Nothing-"_

"Oh no Gilmore, there's no backtracking out of this." Paris grabs her arm, pulling her from where she was slouched over the counter, pretending to be very invested in her coffee "Because it's not like you've had the greatest track-record, so don't make me pull the card of your love life out!"

"That's different!"

"How?! Like Dean had any overlap of your interests, or you and Jess's personality's couldn't be so far apart the gap could resemble the grand canyon?! What happened to being happy for me?!"

"I am! Am I just not allowed to dislike people you date?! You hate everyone I date!"

"That's my thing! Whereas you're disgustingly nice to everyone and always find some kind of positive in them despite their terribleness – that’s your thing! Stick to your thing!!"

"Fine!" Rory slammed her mug down and began walking off, finding an anger rising in her that often doesn't show "I'll just keep it to myself about her obnoxious politeness, or how she doesn't ever shut up about _this new article_ she's doing or _this new_ _book_ she’s reading, like _nobody knows yes, you're a journalism major,_ and what's with the constant need to give back quips like she has to be the _funniest_ person in the room – and does she honestly have nothing better to do then constantly come over here and use up all your time like there's no other throats to stick her tongue down?!"

_"That's_ what you're upset about?! First of all, you've seen us kiss like that maybe _twice,_ and secondly, now that finally I've got someone in my life outside of you you're all up in a huff about it? Maybe you've forgotten Gilmore, but – and I thought you'd be _happy_ about this – I don’t have to spend every breathing second with you because we are not _married,_ or _even together –”_

_"I know that!"_ Rory snarled and it made Paris lean away slightly, blinking back. There was a second of piercing silence, and Rory could feel her throat closing in. Suddenly, she couldn't stand to be in here.

"I-I have to go.." She stumbled, hastily grabbing her bag and jacket laying on the table, aiming for the door.

"Classic Rory Gilmore move." Paris folded her arms, glaring "You know, you are the last person I thought would have a problem with me having a girlfriend."

Rory pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob. _Yeah, me_ _neither_ sits on the tip of her tongue.

"But go figure, you playing the escape route instead of dealing with this. So I _guess_ don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out!”

Rory felt her fist close up, teeth grinding. She slammed it.

-

“I’m a bad person.”

“Rory.” 

“I’m a terrible person.”

“Kid –”

“I’m a terrible, morally wrong person, _and_ a bad friend!” 

Lorelai reached forward, palm landing on Rory’s forehead to push her head up from where she’d shamefully placed it on the table.

“There. If you’re going to berate yourself, at lease let me be able to hear you.” Lorelai took a sip of her coffee, watching Rory lean back and groan “Kid, look, you and Paris just had a fight, and fights happen, nothing to get hung up about..–”

"But we don't argue like  that!” Rory protested, showing her distress “It-it’s not like that. Like, Paris yells and then I rebuttle and then we quip back and forth in charged but ultimately good nature until we finally reach an end; not in years, have we argued to rip into  _each other._ Totally maliciously, not for the fun of it. Never..have I yelled at her to make her even more mad – and frankly, I don't even really blame her.."

"Because you chewed out her girlfriend?"

"I should've gotten at least _one_ free pass though, considering how many times she's chewed out my relationships.." Rory grumbled

"While I don't advocate for blind fighting, don't beat yourself up about it; you're not going to get along with everyone –”

"That's the thing though – as much as I don't wanna admit it, Rachel's perfectly fine! She's actually perfectly nice, smart, funny, and she seems to genuinely like Paris. I wanna be happy for them so much, so what's my deal?!"

"I dunno kid – I guess, Paris has kind of revolved around you for almost the entire time you've known her, but now, you've got to spare some of her over to this new chick."

"But I didn't feel this way when she was with other people I liked, like Jamie! I was actually _happy_ for her that she'd found someone who mutually liked her and who she spent time with."

"Mm. Well, not to make wild accusations, but, I think maybe, a girlfriend is probably a little different then a boyfriend. Probably some overlap in the dynamics you'd have with your girl friends, the ones _without_ the space, that is. So maybe it's the fact that it's a girl this time."

Rory pressed her face into her hands, sighing out heavy "..That's what I'm worried about."

"Explanation please."

Her head starts sliding down, palms now on forehead, like she was trying to shrink up "By the evidence, that I wasn't upset over her and Jamie and Rachel's perfectly nice, the only thing that's left is Rachel being a girl and the horrifying possibility that I...somehow ingested some terrible bigotry and now I can't stand to see one of my best friends kiss a girl.."

Lorelai didn't say anything. There was just silence. Oh god, does her mom hate her now? Rory, already flooded with shame, peered up over her brow to look at the other woman, who has her hand pressed against her mouth – which Rory suddenly realizes is keeping in laughter.

"Mom!"

"I-I'm sorry.." Lorelai tried to get out between bouts of giggles, grin wide and eyes dancing in amusement "it's just..the last thing I expected you to tell me was that you're secretly a bigot.."

"Stop laughing! This isn't funny!"

"Are you going to tell me next that you've had an unexpected craving to watch Fox News? Do you think women should still be able to vote?"

“Alright, goodbye.” Rory scrapped back her chair and hastily got up, only for her mom to grab her by the arm.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I surrender." Lorelai guides Rory back into her seat, giving a smile to the frumpled look "but, Rory, you gotta admit how ridiculous that sounds."

"Well what else could it be?! I can't think of any other reason why it'd bother me so much!"

“Alright, let’s look at the evidence here.” Lorelai straightened up, pretending to lay out imaginary papers “When Paris first told you she was gay, did you have an issue with it?”

“No.” 

“Okay – when you guys went to the meet-up, and I’m assuming there was some handsy action and not-well-concealed-dark-corner making out between these women, did that bother you?” 

“No more then seeing strangers exchange spit ever does.” 

“Fair. Alright, when that chick at that event tried to slide up to you at said event, did _that_ bother you?” 

“No –”

“And, just to be clear, before all this and Paris’s girlfriends and subsequent make-outs, anything else you’ve ever seen of the rainbow bother you? Will and Grace re-runs? The Ellen Show?” 

“ _No,_ none of it!”

Lorelai stopped then. She leaned back in her chair, lips pressing together, watching her daughter. Rory thought it looked like she was trying to conceal a smile. 

“...Then, kid, maybe it’s worth thinking about the fact that, clearly it’s not girls kissing each other that’s bothering you, but, every time you’ve been upset, it’s been _Paris_ kissing those other girls that’s bothering you.”

It took a second for Rory to process what her mom said. About five seconds of silence to get through the shock, and then came outright confusion – and unplaced panic.

"..W-what? Mom that's crazy!"

"But is it?”

“ _Yes!_ Look, if I actually did like Paris, I'm pretty sure I'd know it by now."

“But you said it yourself, there are no other reasons why – and I'm _pretty_ sure it's not because you hate the rainbow. So, therefore, it’s gotta be the reason why you hate Rachel. I mean, just seeing you watch them be a cutesy couple and that she was finishing Paris’s sentences, you looked like you were gunna flip your own dining table.”

“I never said I _hated_ Rachel okay. I just know Paris and so I’d hypothetically know who’d be the best suit for her, and that she should be with someone who really appreciates her and understands her instead of Rachel who was giving her a hard time earlier because she’s amazing and really smart and funny and Rachel just _walked in here_ and doesn’t even get it and _ohmygod I love Paris.”_

“There she is!” Lorelai held up her hands, grinning “You got there, good job kiddo!”

“Oh _god, oh no,_ this, I-I..” Rory drags her hands down her face, and points a finger at Lorelai, wide-eyed “this can’t happen.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I’m not _gay!”_

Lorelai shrugged "Hey, life's weird like that. I mean, despite Paris's beloved...eccentrics, you gotta admit, you guys are pretty suited. And in those cases, I doubt it's limited by which side of the clothing aisle you’re suppose to shop in. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“First of all, you _know_ I’ll worry about it. And secondly, Paris doesn’t even like me, so what’s the point of all this revelation stuff anyway?!” 

“Oh my god Rory, c’mon!” Lorelai groaned, head falling back in exasperation “You did so good figuring this out, you’re almost to the home plate!” 

“What’re you talking about?..” 

“The _girlfriend_ Rory – she just _happens_ to be an exact carbon copy of you!” 

Rory continued to stare blankly back at her mother, where you could just see the thinking ‘...’ above her head. Lorelai sighed. 

“Do you pay attention to anything your dear old mother says? When I came in to see you for all-you-can-eat pancakes, I said how _interesting_ it was that Paris’s girlfriend happened to have the same colour hair as you and eye colour and clothing style and was also a book nerd with a side of journalism interest and has your _exact_ type of humour and for the love of god, your _names_ even start with the same letter –”

“Technically my name starts with an L, not an R – you of all people should know that..” 

“Fine, you can have one point. But all that other stuff still stands! Paris clearly found some kind of alternative-universe-Rory and started dating her because she either couldn’t realize or own up to her feelings for you.” 

Rory paused, brow furrowing “...Since when did you become so perceptive?!” 

Her mother leaned back with a smile, folding her arms “I have my strengths.” 

“Mom, this is insane. You know whenever Paris is going through something, I hear about it, whether I want to or not. If she had feelings for me, it’d drive her nuts not telling me.” 

“What if it was her best friend though? Someone she couldn’t afford to lose? And again, I’ll reiterate, she just might’ve not figured it out yet. It took _you_ this long to get here, imagine what she’s going through.” 

Rory groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Her head was starting to spin; she could feel a headache coming on. Lorelai didn’t seem to notice, leaning forward, putting her hands on the table decisively. 

“Here, I got a plan for how you can tell her –”

“I’m not gunna tell her!” 

“How come??” 

“How _come?!_ Well firstly, she’s with someone else, and secondly you have no solid proof she likes me besides wild speculation – because if she _doesn’t,_ it’s going to _totally_ freak her out. I know Paris; I can _not_ tell her.” 

“Kid, that’s going to kill you.” Lorelai’s expression softened watching Rory “It’s just going to rot from the inside if you don’t tell her; seeing her, especially with Rachel, will do it – seems it already _has_ – and, I dunno, maybe Paris _should_ be with someone who does see how amazing she is..” 

Rory opened her mouth, only for no rebuttle to come out. She  only sighed again, at a loss; confused and frustrated, and, she realized, having much very fallen for her friend who’s already taken. Her friend who was a girl. This was just all too much at once, and Rory didn’t know how to handle it, anxiety swirling in her stomach.

“Look, Rory, I think if you just go to Paris and say –”

“You know what, I just, I, I can’t – I have to leave..” she’s doing it again, that classic Rory Gilmore move, but she knew she needed time to figure this out and _here_ wasn’t it, standing up from her chair and gathering her things “I-I’ll just talk to you later mom..” 

“Rory, c’mon,” Lorelai eased, reaching for her daughter as she hustled by her, not even lifting her head as she bolted to the door “you can’t run from your heart’s desires forever!..” 

“Bye!” 

-

An hour later, back on campus, Rory still hadn’t sorted her thoughts. She still thought her mom was crazy, suggesting bringing  _any_ of this up to Paris, but it’s not like she’s come up with any ulterior ideas either.  Burying her feelings for the rest of time seemed suitable, but not like it was going to be any fun, or even viable. She huffed, so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice she was rounding the hallway corner too sharp until –

A body slams right into her, causing both bodies to topple and land on their backs. Given her day and her mood, Rory sits up with a very un-Rory Gilmore like sharp phrase on her tongue, until she saw familiar green eyes looking back at her.

“Sam?!..” 

“Shit, Rory.” The poetry-loving butch was opposite her, already up on her feet and lending Rory a hand “Geez, I’m sorry, this isn’t exactly how I wanted to bump into you again.” 

“It-it’s okay, I-I should’ve been paying more attention..” She says, taking the hand and letting Sam lift her up with a ‘thanks..’ She could feel the green eyes watching her curiously, a furrowed brow and tiled head. 

“..You doin’ alright? You look like you’ve been through the ringer.” 

Rory sighs out,  struggling to pull her bag up on her shoulder from where it slid “Oh you know, it’s just the regular stuff; homework, exam studying, potentially having feelings for my best friend, all the good things...” 

“Oh, yeah, the blonde right? The one you helped at the drinks-and-date night?..” 

“W-What?!” Rory stuttered back at Sam’s smile “How did you know that?? Is it really _that_ obvious?! Does _everyone_ else around here know I like Paris too?!” 

“No, but if you yell any louder, the people in the hall might hear about it.” 

Rory sighs, left to put her head in her hands. Sam lost her jovial look. 

“I’m guessing this is new information to you..” 

“As of _today_ it is, but, along with my mother, you’re not the first person to tell me. I mean, I expect this, sort of, from her, but what makes you so sure in the _single_ time we’ve ever met?” 

Sam smiled kindly “It was pretty glaring by how, before you noticed this girl – Paris? – was hitting it off with another girl, you were attentive and right into our conversation. But the second you saw she was smiling with another girl who wasn’t you, you could hardly focus. I saw your eyes drift over to them every other second, barely ingrained in the  _very interesting_ introspection I had on Robert Frost if I do say so myself –”

“Sorry.” 

“– s’ok. Basically, it seemed you were all supportive and easy-breezy right before you saw her sliding up with another girl, and then suddenly you had to book it out of there. Mighty co-incidence, don’t you think?” 

“ _Fine,_ so it’s obvious that I like Paris. But I know _one thing,_ and it’s that I’m _not gay._ Putting all this aside for a second, I actually do like guys.” 

“Yeah, of course you’re not gay.” 

“..I-I’m not?..” 

“Yeah. Because you’re bisexual.” 

“….What?” 

“It means you got one foot on either side. You like both. Lots of people are bisexual, it’s a thing.” 

“...Oh. That’s really it?” 

“Seems like it. I mean, I’ve been going through life in these mens boots and button-ups for a while now; I know a queer when I see one. And if your appreciation for Woolf and Dickenson hadn’t sold it, that jean jacket does.” 

Rory furrows, glancing down at the blue material wrapped over her shoulders. She could get into that but knew she had no time, shaking it off. 

“If you sensed it, why didn’t you say anything??” 

“Well how would you feel if a stranger came up to you and told you, hey, I think you like your friend and that you’re bisexual, good luck!” 

“..Alright.” Rory sighs, pads of her fingers rubbing over her eyes “Okay, now what?”

“You’re not gunna like it, but I think you gotta tell her, or it’s just gunna kill you slowly overtime. Trust me.”

The brunette groaned, head falling back “God, why does  _everyone_ keep telling me that.” 

“Because you know it’s the truth.” Sam smiled, watching Rory angrily bite into her lip, deliberately looking away “I mean, dawdle all you want, but you’re still gunna like her and still have to tell her.” 

“...I know.” Rory exhales, frustration melting away into a look of vulnerable worry “But..what if she doesn’t feel the same, and it falls on it’s face?..” 

“If you’re as good of friends as it seems like, then you should be able to get through it. And I think it’ll go over a bit better then you’re worried about – from what I remember of that night, the girl she was chatting up looked weirdly like you..” 

“You noticed that too?!” 

“What?”

“Nevermind..” Rory waves off “..You’re saying I have a chance then?..” 

“I’m saying you gotta try. Hope is the thing with feathers remember, that refuses to be shushed?” 

“So?” 

“So go, fly out of here!” Sam clasps her on the shoulders with a grin, giving Rory a careful nudge forward down the hall “I’m rooting for you Dickenson!”

-

After being ushered and virtually pushed out, Rory was now back at her and Paris’s place. And she can’t believe she was doing this, but here she was anyway,  rushing through the house because if she stopped for even a second to think about this she wouldn’t do it, until she found her roommate. Paris was currently at the counter, lazy clothes on and jamming a somewhat large spoon into a half-frozen pint of ice cream and muttering like always. Rory didn’t really take that into note though, her zoning focus on Paris and the  _now or never_ of what she was about to say. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

Paris turned, finding a rather antsy Rory staring back at her, still in jacket and shoes – whatever this was, it was a big deal. But instead, the blonde sighed, shoulders sagging. 

“Can it be short at least, or even later? You’re my friend, but honestly, unless someone’s dying or you were just proposed to, I don’t have any energy right now to do anything but crawl into a hole –”

“I have feelings for you.”

That shuts Paris up entirely, face forming into shocked confusion. Rory uses that segue to try and keep going even if her stomach had knotted itself past the point of no return, or that her heart was currently trying to beat out of her chest. 

“I’m sorry. I-I know it’s stupid, and you have this girlfriend, and I’m sorry for the thing I said about her and I _totally_ don’t expect you to break up with her or anything, I just..I just had to tell you I like you. I do. I really do. God, I like you so much it’s almost dumb; it’s just..we’ve known each other for a long time now and I’ve watched you grow into the incredible and driven and funny and brilliant person that you are and somehow I’ve fallen for it. And, watching you with Rachel, I realized..that was why I got so mad over her earlier, because I….I don’t want you as only a friend. I want you in every romantic underlining of the word. So, there’s….that.” 

Paris, who usually finds Rory’s ramblings aggravating and has no trouble cutting her off, was silent. That was very jarring and didn’t do anything to settle Rory’s nerves. As they stared at one another trying to figure out what should happen next, Rory finally started taking in the settings – most notably, the ice cream in Paris’s hand. It was half covered in frost meaning she’d probably just taken it out of the freezer, and the second half, was Paris wearing her lazy clothes slightly too early in the night, even for her. Now Rory’s stomach was turning for a different reason. 

“...What’s with the ice cream?” 

Paris blinked, as if suddenly remembering where she was and that she was, in fact, holding ice cream as she glanced between it and Rory “….Rachel broke up with me.” 

Yep. There goes her stomach again, caving in entirely. 

“….Oh.” was all Rory could stutter out “..Good. I just came in here and confessed all these gooey feelings right as your actual girlfriend broke up with you. You know what, uh..just, disregard what I said, disregard the whole thing actually – or, _better,_ pretend I was never here. I’m just, I’m gunna leave, go stick my head in a toilet, so feel better –”

Paris jumps forward, grasping Rory by the elbow to turn her back around “Rory, wait –”

Rory huffs, turning back to the weirdly calm Paris “What?!” 

"Don't you want to hear  _why_ she broke up with me?"

_"..Was_ it because you’re not committing?” Rory quipped, brow furrowing "..And why are you smiling??"

Paris scoffed, lips tilting up “Something like that. It was because I was in love with someone else.."

"Funny Par, way to really kick me when I'm already down – now that you got your fix, I have to leave so I can never come back-"

"It's you, you dolt!"

"....What?"

Paris was back to smiling, taking Rory by the crook of her arm to pull her back inside "I know. That was my reaction when Rachel brought it up, except more visceral. I mean, who's she to make such an assumption? We've only known each other a month! Whatever, I'll let it go –”

"No you won't."

"Probably not, but, she did actually bring up some solid points.” Paris glanced away now, leaning up against the counter "..I mean, I'm sure everyone wondered why Rachel looked a lot like you. And had the same interests as you. And dressed very similar to you. And, god, even your names start with the same letter.."

"If it makes you feel any better, my name still technically starts with an L..." Rory offered. Paris scoffed warmly.

"I never would've seen it, had she not brought it up to me. After last night's argument, I finally went over there, fully prepared in my speech of commitment, all for her to shut me down by making accusations that it was fine, she knew the problem, and it was that I was in love with you."

"Which you immediately denied."

"Oh of course – but there was no persuading her. Kept saying it was obvious, she should've seen it from the beginning; from both your identical patterns, to how she sees me act around you, as if you're the only person who matters, because frankly, you are the only person who matters.."

Rory felt a smile come over, head ducking down. Paris can't help but smile back.

"..You're my best friend. You're the only person I've ever really cared about, and the more Rachel described it, the more I finally saw it. I was dating a copy-cat of you, because I thought I would never have the real thing."

"Was she mad?.."

Paris shrugged "Not really; says it happens to the best of us, to fall for your straight best friend. So, we left each other at that, and I went home to wallow in frozen treats over the fact that not only was I again single, but the matter of being in unrequited love with my best friend. Except..now..."

"Except now.." Rory spoke softly

"May I ask what caused your revelation? Was it your mother? Because, I swear, she kept giving me and Rachel weird looks when she was here, taunting me with whatever she knew that we didn't."

Rory chuckles "Yeah, turns out, the woman who raised me could figure out how I felt before I did. Because, at first, I was feeling..negatively towards Rachel for something I couldn't _pinpoint,_ making me worried that, I dunno, I was more close minded then I thought which was _really_ worrying because I didn't want to be that person who openly stares at the same-sex couple holding hands who’re just trying to walk down the street –”

"Wait," Paris held up a hand, lips pressed together to avoid laughing "Did you really consider that you were actually homophobic before thinking you had feelings for me? Really Rory?"

"Well it was the only thing that made sense! Or that I could think of! Why else would seeing you kiss Rachel make me so mad?!"

"But _that_ was more plausible then liking me? Honestly, I would be insulted if this wasn't so ridiculous and _of course_ something _you_ would think of."

Finally Rory had to break down, low laughs leaking out as Paris grinned "I know, it _is_ so stupid.."

"But?.."

"But, with the help of mom and some...like-minded people, they pulled it apart and made me see it wasn't about you kissing Rachel, it was about that fact it wasn't me.."

"..Well, I guess there's one matter left."

"Which is?.."

Paris took about two steps forward, leaned up just the slightest and kissed her. Rory gasps quietly, but in a second, melted into it. For a second she worried it might be weird, to kiss her best friend, but there was nothing weird about it. It was just nice. Paris kissed as intensely as she did everything else and Rory swore she felt something electric run through. She could also pick up the slight sweetness of the peanut butter chocolate ice cream on her lips, making Rory smile against her, pulling Paris into her as she slid her hand onto Rory’s waist.

After a while, they pulled apart. Rory blinks back to the world around her, adjusting, and finding Paris staring right back at her – tensely, and nervous as usual.

“….You’re not saying anything. You’re not even making a joke.” Paris’s nerves got words to start spilling from her mouth, not knowing what to do as Rory stood there collecting “Say something. Oh god, you hated it. I know if you don’t at least have some sarcastic remark to make you hated it. It was too forward anyway, it was stupid –”

Rory slipped a hand under Paris’s jaw and pulled her in to kiss her. Paris, stubborn at being cut off, held back, but inevitability couldn’t stop from kissing back. When they pulled away again, foreheads close, she tried to look stern but there was a lightness in her voice that only ever showed itself to Rory, saying,

“...You’d better not make a habit of that.”

“Oh you know I’d never _dream_ of it..” Rory teased. Paris broke into a smile, scoffing, and Rory couldn’t help grinning back, elated out of her mind. 

T he rest of the night was just theirs. But, later, Rory will  run into Sam again when she’s out with  Paris, both of them at a local book sale. She’ll raise her brow at their interlocked hands,  bumping Rory’s shoulder lightly and grinning  _“good job Dickinson.”_ They talk a minute more about the books they’re getting before Sam has to go, and like, clockwork, Paris is beside her, arms folded and gaze pointed to the back of Sam’s head. 

“Who’s that other lesbian? And why is she calling you Dickinson?” 

“She’s a friend. And it’s just a dumb joke; she caught me reading Emily’s poetry collection, don’t worry about it..”

“Oh, well, _sure thing_ I won’t worry about another lesbian teasing you with a nickname – frankly, it’s a stupid choice for a nickname, as well as a stupid name and _what_ are you smiling at?!..” 

“Nothing..” Rory grins, leaning in to kiss Paris on the cheek and watching her anger give way to her own smile “just remarking on a bit of irony..” 

**Author's Note:**

> Ending is a bit 'meh' but what're you gunna do you know? Also I don't know why I keep writing wise butches into Rory's coming out arc, but that's the way it goes I guess. I just knew it couldn't just be Lorelai who helped her; she had to hear about her (potential) queerness from an actual queer person to get the real deal. 
> 
> Until next time friends! I'm plotting to put out another chapter of my one-shot set, so keep your eyes peeled. For right now, comments and kudos will do it (I'm hoping this crack-like fic lives up to the shadow of my other one, my beloved 'Mother Knows Best', which became way more popular then I predicted, so let me know if you liked this!). I love readings your guys's replies so much, they always make me so happy X) And as usual, you can find me @paris-geller-was-straightwashed in tumblr's great, blue void.


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